


For You

by xaihime



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (for Yuri), Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blowjobs, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaihime/pseuds/xaihime
Summary: Victor gives Yuri a thorough lesson on Eros after the Onsen on Ice.Or: Yuri has a praise kink and Victor is a wolf in bed. That's it. That's the plot.





	

Eating two big bowls of his mother’s katsudon had been a mistake. Not because he had a tummyache—no, Yuri had been known to eat much more without so much as a wince. Rather, he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open—with his stomach so full, limbs so sore, and body still warm from the bath—and without him on the alert no one would step in to stop Victor from getting much too “tipsy” and doing something completely mortifying. He didn’t have the energy to struggle much when Victor inevitably draped himself over him, Victor’s chest to Yuri’s back, and held him close in his lap.

“Come on, Victor,” Yuri protested weakly. “Everyone is staring.”

It wasn’t exactly true—most of his family and friends were focused on the television, where some or other sport was playing at a loud volume. Still, Yuri wiggled in Victor’s grasp. A warm rosiness spread over his neck and face when Victor pressed him closer to rub their cheeks together fondly.

“Yuri, you did so well today.”

A pinprick of heat coiled itself low in Yuri’s belly at Victor’s words. He swallowed, going a bit limp. “Thank you,” he managed.

“You were _so good_. You looked _beautiful_.” 

Yuri’s fingers scrambled at Victor’s hands where they were clasped tightly just under his chest to keep him in place. Something was stirring in him and he needed to get away quickly if he wanted to preserve any semblance of dignity.

“Thank you, Victor.”

“Yuuuuuri,” Victor drawled. He continued to nuzzle his cheek against Yuri’s, like a cat marking its scent, grinning from ear to ear.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, don't you?” Yuri mumbled quickly.

“Huh? But I’ve only had two glasses.”

“Huh?”

Victor wasn’t as drunk as Yuri had thought, apparently. But he was being awfully generous with his touches, and his praise, and it wasn’t very good for Yuri’s constitutions—

“Yuri?” His mother’s voice startled him. He jumped a bit in Victor’s arms, looking up at her from under disheveled bangs. She stood, smiling dotingly down at him. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go on to bed? Your father and I will entertain the guests.”

As if to affirm this, the crowd huddled around the TV began complaining loudly about some unfair call during the game; no one seemed to be paying the victorious skater and his coach any attention.

Yuri didn’t bother protesting. He  _ was  _ tired, and full, and—pressed so close against a very warm Victor—a little bit of something  _ else _ . He inhaled sharply. “Okay, Mom. Thanks.” With some effort, he pried Victor’s hands off of him, earning a whine of protest from the other man. “I’m going to bed, Victor.”

“I’ll come, too.”

“What?”

Yuri was rising, but he’d underestimated just how fatigued he really was. He wobbled a bit on his feet and Victor reached a steady arm out to catch him—pulling Yuri back into an embrace in the process.

“Th-thanks,” grumbled Yuri.

“Let’s go upstairs?” Victor’s breath ghosted hot against Yuri’s ear, and he shuddered.

They excused themselves from the victory party, slipping away upstairs. Once they were alone in the dim, quiet hallway—the commotion of the party a dull, faraway din—Yuri could hear clearly just how fast and hard his heart was beating. Victor was still snuggling against him; they’d waddled awkwardly up the stairs without breaking the hold.

They found themselves paused in between the doors to their respective bedrooms. Yuri wasn’t sure what they were doing. On any other night, Victor would have ruffled his hair thoroughly and gone to his own room, or would have begged to stay in Yuri’s; on any other night, Victor wouldn’t be sliding his hands around from Yuri’s stomach to his hips; on any other night, Yuri wouldn’t be gasping softly at Victor’s nose nuzzling the space behind his ear; on any other night—

“Yuri.” Victor’s lips pressed into Yuri’s hair; not quite a kiss. “Would you like to come to my room?”

One of the hands that had settled on his hips now slipped, adventurously, to gently pat Yuri’s ass and linger there. Yuri swallowed, screwed his eyes shut. His willpower was failing him.

Victor was too much.

“Yes,” Yuri answered finally. He felt Victor grin against his hair.

~*~

Yuri’s hand was warm. Victor could feel the heat on his skin from where the man had his hand fluttering at his belt buckle. This sort of flustered anxiety on his student’s part—the lack of eye contact, the deep rosiness splotching across pale cheeks—was unsurprising to Victor. He was very certain (and took a rather selfish, silly pride in the fact) that he was to be Yuri’s first. The thought made his stomach coil with a new surge of heat. He carded long, pale fingers through Yuri’s hair, conveying, with a slight tug, both encouragement and impatience.

Yuri shivered. He drew his plump bottom lip between his teeth nervously and paused for a moment clutching the button of Victor’s pants. His shaky breath—as hot as the rest of him—tickled across Victor’s navel.

Finally, all at once, Yuri slid the zipper down, reached in past red, silky underwear, and pulled out Victor’s erection. The sight of him struck Yuri breathless. Victor’s cock was just like the rest of him: long, elegant, with a slight curve that resembled the bow of Victor’s back as he pranced and flourished on the ice. It was also, currently, so achingly hard that Yuri could clearly trace the veins running along its length; the pink glans peaked coyly out from the foreskin. His wet, red lips fell open. He yearned to lean in and drag his tongue across the dribble of precum glistening at the swollen head.

Victor gazed down at Yuri, icy blue eyes hooded with arousal. He couldn’t help but smirk at the wonder in Yuri’s flushed face, a soft huff of laughter escaping him as the younger man’s hands crept up hesitantly to wrap around Victor’s dick. Victor’s fingers clenched in Yuri’s mussed hair. 

He wanted to shoot his load all over that face. Wanted to streak those rosy cheeks—still a bit plump with the stubborn remnants of several months off training—with his thick cum. He wanted to smear his essence over Yuri’s lips, so that he would remember the taste of him, the feel of him on his skin, for days afterwards. Victor was overcome, powerfully, with the desire to debauch Yuri—this beautiful, innocent young man who was currently knelt between his thighs, gazing sheepishly up at him through long lashes, inexperienced hands fumbling along Victor’s cock.

Yes, Victor decided, furrowing his brows and biting his lip, concentrating hard to restrain himself from slapping his needy cock impatiently against Yuri’s face. Yes, he wanted to claim him, possess him, touch and mark him in ways that would keep him at Victor’s side, unable and unwilling to give himself to anyone else.

Victor would be the only one to touch Yuri.

“Yuri,” he said, noting with amusement the shiver that ran up Yuri’s spine. “Come, now. You don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?”

Yuri didn’t understand how a voice could sound so pouty, and yet so low and sensual at the same time. Whatever the method, those words sent a boiling heat straight through him, settling low in his belly and making his cock jump in his briefs. Determination filled him. Victor was his—his coach, his inspiration, his love—and he was going to satisfy him. Yuri decided, with a firm setting of his jaw, that Victor would only ever belong to him. He would take care of him and love him, body and soul, the way no one else ever could. He would prove that now—he’d make sure Victor knew it too.

He took an adamant grasp at Victor’s cock, making the other man huff in surprise. Easy, Yuri thought, willing his nerves to be calm. He’d do it the way he did it for himself. He began stroking along the length, more firmly around the top and thumbing the cockhead before each downward stroke. He built up a steady rhythm, ears trained on Victor’s small, needy gasps and sighs. Every _“Oh,”_ ghosted across parted lips above him made his head just a bit more fuzzy, made his wrist flick more quickly.

Soon enough, Victor’s hand was tightening in Yuri’s hair. Yuri could feel the muscles of Victor’s thighs tensing beneath his touch; this was it. Before Victor had a chance to even process the sudden movement, Yuri was leaning forward and mouthing up and down Victor’s cock. The hot, velvety texture against his lips made Yuri’s head spin. Daringly, he laved his tongue across the head just the way he’d wanted to earlier. He pulled gently at the foreskin with his lips, then worked his way back down, smacking small wet kisses against the skin as he went. He offered little kitten licks playing at innocence—but Yuri knew what he was doing, and by the way Victor began to glare down at him, he knew his coach did too.

“ _Yuri,_ ” said Victor. It was low, almost a growl, filled with warning. Yuri took the hint, smiling apologetically, and opened up at last to take Victor fully into his mouth. 

He went slowly at first, trying to savor as much as he could—Victor’s intoxicating, salty taste against his tongue, Victor’s shaky moans, Victor’s hands running up his cheeks and burrowing into his hair. But this was, however, also the first time he’d ever had a dick in his mouth, and he wasn’t quite so confident with this as he'd been with the handjob; and so he took a minute to learn and explore, taking care to check his teeth as he bobbed his head on Victor’s cock.

Victor had his eyes on Yuri all the while—or, at least, when his head wasn’t tilted back in a moan. He was awfully impressed with his student. While he could very clearly tell the man was inexperienced (graceless tongue, clumsy teeth, fumbling fingers, rookie chokes and sniffles when more cock was taken in than could be handled), Yuri had a certain charm to him that made the moment just as heated, made Victor’s body respond just as enthusiastically. Victor supposed it was Yuri’s determination and enthusiasm—the stubborn streak he’d only seen come out on the ice. Victor gave a soft laugh, which quickly turned into a groan as Yuri found a working technique and picked up the pace.

Yuri’s mouth was focused on the cockhead, sucking and slurping lewdly around it, while his hands twisted and pumped along the rest of Victor’s length. His face was hot, cheeks burning red with his flush, and his own cock was still aching and weeping in the confines of his underwear. He briefly thought about allowing one hand to slither down and touch himself—but Victor’s sudden guttural groan erased any thought of that. He focused all of his energy on earning Victor’s orgasm.

_“Yes,”_ Victor gritted through his teeth, toes curling. “Yes, _Yuri,_ that’s it. So good, you’re _so good_.” 

The words made Yuri’s knees weak; he struggled to keep himself upright. The heat surged in his stomach and he had the sudden, panicked idea that he might cum in his briefs.

Victor was beginning to tremble. He could feel the tingling at the base of his spine all the way to his fingertips. He wanted more than anything to hold Yuri’s head in place and fuck into that hot mouth relentlessly until he shot thick ropes of cum straight down that tempting throat; but he had a better idea, and in order to execute it, he’d need his little Yuri to stop sucking dick like he was born for it.

“Baby?” Victor cooed as gently as he could in the face of impending climax. “Darling, wait. I’m close.” He pushed at Yuri’s shoulder when the man didn’t stop immediately. “ _Yuri,_ I’m telling you stop before I cum all over your glasses.” 

Yuri slowed, reluctantly, before sliding off Victor’s shiny wet cock and letting it fall from his mouth with an obscene pop. He panted lightly, running the back of his hand across his lips. “Maybe I want that.” The words were barely audible, but Victor caught them. Looking up at him, Yuri could see Victor’s pupils blown wide with arousal, hardly a sliver of dazzling blue visible around the black.

“Well. Maybe I want to save it for somewhere else.”

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat. His clouded head was still working through the implications of that when Victor pulled him up by the arms and pushed him down onto the bed.

~*~

“Yuri,” Victor said. The words were hot and slurred against Yuri’s ear. “Do you know how incredible you looked today?”

The younger man moaned, hips jerking. He fucked himself feverishly on Victor’s cock while his coach smoothed cool, gentle fingers across his cheek and neck. Working Yuri open on Victor’s fingers had been easy enough with an abundance of lube and patience—now, past the initial strangeness of having something long and hard inside of him, Yuri never wanted to get off of Victor’s cock. Victor’s voice floated around him like a haze; his heady arousal made it difficult to really comprehend much.

“The way you moved was unlike anything I’d ever seen from you. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It was _sinful._ ” 

Blunt teeth nipped gently at Yuri’s neck, eliciting a whimper, and then Victor was sucking fiercely at his skin, leaving a wide, blue hickey that would be difficult to hide. A shudder ran up his spine and he felt himself peaking already, untouched. He pressed closer against Victor, embarrassed, and stilled his quick bouncing in favor of grinding himself down into Victor’s lap, hoping to stall his release just a bit more. His lips found Victor’s and latched on, opening obligingly for Victor’s tongue, which slid agonizingly over his own. They parted briefly for air before Victor was darting back in, suckling Yuri’s lower lip. Yuri mewled faintly. Victor’s mouth pressed against his again, kissing him sloppily, all tongue and wet smacks.

“Yuri. Do you know what you do to me?”

Victor ran his hands teasingly across Yuri’s nipples before rolling the pert nubs between his fingers. He heard the small, tremulous cry at his ear and knew Yuri was fighting down something louder. He grinned.

“It’s piteous of me, isn’t it?” he went on, keeping his voice as even and casual as he could. “I was jealous of everyone in the audience today. You know why, don’t you, darling? Because you’re so gorgeous. Because the way you moved today would make any man want you all to himself.”

Yuri’s breathy panting rose to a high whine. “ _V-Victor!_ ” His legs trembled. 

“Is that what you wanted, Yuri? For all of those hungry eyes to devour you? For some man to lust after you and ravish you?”

Yuri understood the consequence of ignoring these words and shook his head frantically. Protest bubbled at his lips, but the hitch in his breath as Victor began thrusting up into him to meet his bounces kept him from speaking.

Victor grimaced at Yuri’s silence. He grabbed the man’s shoulders and guided him backwards—a bit impatiently—flat down onto the mattress. With both hands, he reached down around Yuri’s legs to the backs of his knees and drew them up, essentially folding Yuri in half and exposing the plushest bottom parts of his thick thighs. Yuri squeaked at the manhandling, then yelped loudly as a sharp smack was delivered to the sensitive skin there.

Victor kept his hold firmly on the back of Yuri’s knees, keeping him in place as he began to fuck him in earnest, quick and fierce. The force pushed Yuri up the mattress, which creaked with every forward thrust of Victor’s hips. The new angle had the younger man seeing white. He trembled and whimpered, curling his fingers around the sheets to ground himself.

“Well, Yuri?” Victor persisted, ragged panting edging his voice. He gave another quick smack to Yuri’s rump, the tantalizing jiggle of flesh beneath his palm making him dizzy.

Yuri cried out, back arching up off the bed. “O-Only for you, Victor!” he sobbed. “My dance was only for you!”

The declaration—and the way Yuri’s hands desperately, innocently sought Victor’s own for reassurance—clouded Victor’s head, blocking the tiny flickers of restraint he had left. He paused to shift his knees and began to piston into Yuri anew, balls slapping against the younger man’s ass as he bottomed out with every thrust.

“Is that right?” he panted. His voice was impossibly low and husky and it sent a pinprick of heat from Yuri’s abdomen all the way down to his toes. “Tell me, sweetheart. What were you thinking about during the routine? I know it wasn't your mother’s katsudon.”

Yuri knew better than to keep silent again, and he did his best to force words out. But Victor was hitting his sweet spot just right, and the slick glide of Victor’s cock was churning up his insides so nice, and all that came from his parted lips was a strangled cry. He whimpered, decidedly overstimulated. His heels sought frantic purchase against the bed; his hands reached desperately up for Victor, needing contact, sympathy, and validation.

Victor had been priding himself, lately, on his excellency in coaching. He recognized the signs of overexertion, of being a twist away from dropping over the edge. He saw this now in Yuri, and (with some reluctance) slowed their pace, relaxing Yuri’s legs gently back down onto the bed. He happily obliged Yuri by clasping their hands together and twining their fingers. Slowly, he inched forward until he was sheathed to the hilt, hips flush against Yuri’s round ass. He would opt, instead, to grind the words out of the man with each forward gyration of his hips.

“Baby?” he insisted.

Yuri took in a gasping breath. His glasses were, to Victor’s delight, stunningly fogged, smudged, and skewed on his face. “I, I was—” Yuri gasped; the head of Victor’s cock had found his prostate again and was pushing deliberately against it with each thrust. “Nng, Victor…!”

Victor sprinkled soothing kisses along Yuri’s cheeks and lips—a loving gesture in stark contrast to the unrelenting treatment he was giving Yuri’s ass. “Go on, darling. You’re being so good for me. Go on.”

The praise rushed straight to Yuri’s leaking cock, which was now trapped between their bellies and smearing precum over their skin. Still, eager to please his coach—his idol, his love, his  _ Victor— _ Yuri gathered himself as best as he could and spoke, voice quavering. “I was… Th-thinking about you, Victor.”

“What about me, darling?”

“W-Wanted you to be proud of me.”

“Is that all?”

Victor knew he was pushing (admittedly, being a bit cruel). He could see it in the adorable deep red flush of Yuri’s ears. He was sure, already, of what Yuri was going to say. But he needed to hear the words spoken in that voice—needed to see them formed on bruised wet lips. He leaned forward to nuzzle into Yuri’s neck.

“I…” Yuri hesitated. Victor’s hips had stilled completely, and the ache in his cock was making his head spin. He anchored himself against Victor, clutching the muscled biceps. “I wanted to impress you. Wanted—” his breath hitching, “—wanted  _ you _ to see all of me. Draw you in. I was hoping… I, I wanted to…to…” 

It proved too much for him. Shamefully defeated, he bit his lip and turned his gaze away.

“To seduce me?” Victor’s breath ghosted across Yuri’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The reply was barely a whisper.

“Yes.”

Victor raised himself up a bit more to look down fully at Yuri’s face. Yuri was surprised to see the older man grinning widely, an almost predatory excitement glittering in his eyes.

“So you admit it, then.”

“Well, I…” Yuri tilted his head to the side; he was afraid he’d cum from Victor’s low voice and dark, hooded bedroom eyes alone. “Yes.”

Victor leaned in to kiss him, chastely, in reward. “I’d say you succeeded. Wouldn’t you?” He rolled his hips against Yuri for emphasis.

“ _Oh,_ ” Yuri breathed. “Victor, please?” 

Yuri swore Victor’s beaming smile could melt an entire rink. “What would you like, Yuri? What would you like me to do?”

A small huff of frustration, impatience. “Want you to… To…”

“Yuri…”

“Want to cum,” he admitted finally. “I want to cum, Victor. Please?”

“Well,” Victor chuckled. He kissed the tip of Yuri’s nose. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Victor rose up again to achieve a better angle. He settled on his knees between Yuri’s legs—beautiful, smooth, quivering slightly now—and took a moment to caress the skin of his thighs, palms running up to splay teasingly around Yuri’s wet cock.

“Beautiful,” Victor murmured. “My beautiful Yuri.”

Yuri moaned softly, more of a whine than anything. His turned his face into the pillow as Victor hoisted one of his legs up to drape over his shoulder.

Victor smiled tenderly. “Now, Yuri,” delivering a quick smooch to the ankle resting by his face, “I'm going to make you cum.” He reached over to grab the lube which had been discarded on the bed from earlier. Popping the cap, he drizzled a generous amount onto where he was joined with Yuri; he ran a fingertip around the ring of stretched muscle as he spread the cool, slippery substance.

Yuri moaned, legs twitching, and nodded dazedly. “You too, Victor. I’ll make you cum, too.” He watched through half-lidded eyes as Victor tossed the bottle away once more, followed the movement of the elegant hand as it then pushed the hair back from Victor’s flushed face.

“Of course, baby.” Victor began thrusting again, shallowly, to get their rhythm going. The tight heat of Yuri’s ass sucked him in eagerly, and he groaned low in the back of his throat. “Make me feel so good, Yuri.”

Yuri offered a vague, high noise in response. The heel that wasn’t dangling over Victor’s shoulder dug into the man’s thigh, trying to push him in deeper. Victor obliged, head dipping and smooth silver locks falling over his eyes as he snapped his hips forward faster. The head of his cock delved deep into Yuri’s slick heat with every thrust, and he quickly found that spot again—how was he so _good_ , Yuri wondered, how was he able to _do_ that so easily—making Yuri’s voice raise sharply in a strangled cry. 

“Shh,” Victor murmured, lips pressed against Yuri’s leg. “Shh, I’ve got you, darling. You’re amazing. You f-feel— _ah!_ —” Victor’s brows furrowed and his mouth hung open as a new surge of heat washed over him. This wasn’t going to last long. 

Luckily, if his writhing and whimpering was anything to go by, Yuri was just as close. He fumbled for Victor’s hand, holding it tightly and intertwining their fingers once Victor gave it to him. With his other hand, he reached down to touch his unbearably stiff cock.

Victor, however, blocked him. He lightly swatted Yuri’s hand away and gave a soft huff of laughter when Yuri whined and tried to touch himself again.

“Cum on my cock, baby,” Victor breathed, holding Yuri’s wrist still. “Can you do that for me?”

Yuri would have gotten Victor the moon if he’d asked him. He nodded vigorously.

“Say it.”

“I’m g-gonna cum— _mm!_ —I’m gonna cum on your cock, Victor!” 

“That’s good, that’s so good, Yuri.” Victor’s hips were moving erratically now, snapping sharply against Yuri. His entire body was thrumming. Victor couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made him feel like this.

“Please, Victor,” Yuri begged. “Inside. I want you to—to—”

“ _Fuck,_ Yuri—” 

Yuri was first. He gave a quick, high cry, arching up off the bed, grip tightening on Victor’s hand as he came across his own stomach. His release triggered Victor’s, the impossible tightening of his ass making the man’s hips stutter one last time before he was lurching forward over Yuri, loosing a stream of Russian in a moaning sigh that flew over Yuri’s head.

Slowly, the world began to resettle around them. Yuri could feel Victor’s cum, pleasantly warm inside him, and he smiled softly to himself. When Victor came to at last, he nestled down against Yuri’s chest, heedless of the sticky, drying cum on Yuri’s tummy. He pecked his student’s lips over and over, only pausing to nuzzle just under his jaw.

“Th-that was…” Yuri began hesitantly.

“Incredible. You’re incredible, Yuri.”

Yuri dragged lazy fingertips over Victor’s back. He chuckled shyly. For a few more minutes, the two allowed themselves to laze in the afterglow. Yuri was hyperaware of Victor’s softening dick still nestled inside of him; he wished they could stay like this forever. He never wanted to be empty. He wanted to be always full of Victor.

Eventually, however, Victor rose up off of him with a groan, pulling out gingerly. “Don’t move, baby,” he said, with a slight grimace at the dried semen that had transferred from Yuri’s skin to his. “I’ll clean us up.”

Yuri watched him sleepily as he stood and made his way to the door, shrugging on a robe and slinking quietly to the bathroom. The distant babel of the party seemed to be dying now; Yuri chanced a glance at the clock and found it well past midnight. His eyes fell shut. 

He flickered back into consciousness with a tidied up Victor—naked again—tenderly washing him with a damp cloth. His glasses had been removed and were folded neatly on the bedside table. The blush flew back to Yuri’s cheeks, but he let Victor clean him up without wiggling too much.

At last, Victor declared proudly, “There now. How do you feel, Yuri?”

Yuri scrambled for a response, but his words failed him. He felt sated, sleepy, warm, cared for—he felt _loved._ He could never express this, with eloquence, to Victor. So instead, he reached out, took Victor’s arm, and pulled him back into bed, wrapping his arms tight around him. 

Victor laughed brightly—Yuri wanted to always be the cause of that laugh, wanted to hear it every day—and snuggled against him. “Me too,” he murmured. They drifted together, slowly, into a restful sleep, comforted and lulled by the steady sound of each other’s heartbeats.

~*~

When Yuri woke, there was sunlight filtering in through the window, falling across the bed where he and Victor lay wrapped up in each other still. Or, he should say, he was wrapped up in Victor. The softly snoring man clung to him like an octopus with all his limbs, legs tangled together, arms secured tight around Yuri’s waist and chest. Yuri snuffed a laugh. There was no way he would be able to escape Victor’s hold; so, instead, he snuggled further against him, earning a pleased grunt and a tight squeeze. A wide smile lingered on Yuri’s lips as his eyes fluttered shut.

He should have known Victor would be a cuddler.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for this series! Hope you enjoyed ♡
> 
> twitter: xaipurin  
> Feel free to talk to me or send me prompts~


End file.
